


angels and hallucinations

by ineedjeffrey



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Hallucinations, Heavy Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Short, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27781234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedjeffrey/pseuds/ineedjeffrey
Summary: Mark thought he was ready to leave, not until Donghyuck showed up.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	angels and hallucinations

**Author's Note:**

> This short story contains heavy angst, ideas about death, terminal sickness, and light substance abuse. If any of these topics trigger you, I highly suggest for you to stop here.

_  
I know Mark Lee. I know him so well that even the sound of his breathing is almost too familiar. I know him – all of him. I know his dreams, his fears; I know which parts of him are brittle as crayons and which parts are sturdy as pillars. I know the sound of his pain. I know which days are bad and which days are the best for him. I know the sensation of his tears trickling down my shoulders when he hugs me and I silently hope that I could do something to stop his cries. I know Mark Lee._

_I love Mark Lee. I love him so much that it hurts to hear him breakdown after a long day of trying to please the crowd. I love him – and with love, I mean I would do and give anything to him. I’d let go of my greatest possessions when he asks for it. I love him more than anybody else. I love him beyond limitations; love him behind all his rough edges. I love him so much that no ocean is as big as my adoration for his beautiful soul. I love Mark Lee._

_I long for Mark Lee. I long for him on days when I feel like I could use some happiness in my life. I long for him on days when I feel so complete that it feels like I would burst any minute. I long for him on days when I feel empty – like a soda can left on the wooden bench after emptying all its content for all the wrong people. I long for his touch; for the comfort that only his slightly calloused hand could offer. I long for his hug; for the warmth that only his chest could give. And sometimes, I long for him too much that I almost feel like I couldn’t live without him. I long for Mark Lee._

_And wherever he is now, I want him to know that my heart is with him; that our souls are tied and unbreakable. I love him. Oh my God, I love him so much._

_**\- DH  
**_

Mark felt like the world stood still; like gravity didn’t exist as his tired lips mumble each syllable on the eulogy that Donghyuck had written for him. It was stupid to write one. The essence of death lies on its tendency to arrive unexpected. Deaths are extra painful and dreadful because it takes away your chance to express your love and adoration for the departed. And while most people feared the idea of an unexpected death, Mark adored it. It was an adventure for him; an uninvited guest that barges into one’s door, taking one's chances to please the people he’s about to leave behind.

When Mark was diagnosed with brain tumor, it didn’t shock him. In fact, it mesmerized him. He considered himself lucky that he was able to know how many days were left. Most people die without knowing that they would, and to Mark, that was fun – but scary. Mark was ready for it. Hell, he even planned everything out. He planned it so well that it felt more exciting than celebrating his birthdays or celebrating Christmas.

He was ready to leave, but Donghyuck came. It terrified Mark how a single being could make him leave all his principles, all his plans. When Donghyuck came into the picture, Mark wanted to print the photograph a thousand times. He wanted to encrypt the memory of meeting the younger. He wanted to never forget it. He begged and begged for time to go slower, or for the tumor to magically disappear.

“I thought you’re not afraid of it?” Donghyuck asked him one time inside his hospital room.

“I wasn’t.” Mark whispered. “But I don’t know. I suddenly feel like dying is lame. I want to live, Hyuck. Is that a selfish thing to ask for?”

“No. At least for me, it isn’t. We all deserve a chance at life.” Donghyuck answered, and it mesmerized Mark how pure the younger was.

He remembered Donghyuck that way. A breath of fresh air. A pure soul trapped inside a cruel world, and Mark swore he would swim oceans and fight dictators to make a world suitable for Donghyuck. A world where the younger won’t get hurt. A soft world for a soft angel.

Donghyuck came to the hospital everyday. He brought fruits, toys, books. He brought things that interested Mark. It became a routine; a scary pattern of events, and Mark knew it would somehow end. Mark didn’t have much time, nor did he have much strength. So, when Donghyuck suddenly stopped showing up in the hospital, Mark was close to being nuts. He never told anyone about Donghyuck, not even his parents. They never saw Donghyuck and Mark together, because Hyuck would come at ungodly hours. In the midnight, dusk or dawn, in times when most people wouldn’t notice him strolling down the corridors to Mark’s private room.

“I asked to see you today because I am concerned about your son.” The therapist said to Mark’s parents.

A few months prior to Donghyuck, Mark had been abusing pills to get through the rough nights of being alone, and he often got overdosed, which is why he was confined in the hospital for close monitoring.

The therapist lifted an empty bottle of pills, “Mark, what is this about?”

Mark didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t familiar of the bottle and he stopped taking pills when Donghyuck came. He was too pre-occupied with the entertainment that the younger brought to even get his hands on the pills that had been lying under his hospital bed for a couple of months.

“It’s not mine. I stopped taking.” Mark answered truthfully.

“Mark, let’s be honest here.”

“I didn’t. I swear.” 

“The CCTV footages caught you. We talked about this already, right? We agreed that you stopped taking these.” The therapist calmly said.

“I swear! Those aren’t mine. You can ask Donghyuck about it?”

“Donghyuck?”

“Yeah, my frequent visitor.”

The therapist looked at him with worry. It was as if Mark had been blabbering nonsense all along. 

**“Mark, you didn’t have any visitor since you were confined. We locked your room and only nurses could enter, and the CCTV didn’t catch anyone entering your room.”**

Mark was confused. His head hurt, almost like it was about to explode. He’s confused and he didn’t know if the therapist was lying. But more than anything, his heart ached. It ached so much that he had to hit his chest over and over again.

“No, Donghyuck was with me. He came to visit me everyday!”

“Look, he even wrote me a eulogy.”

Mark didn’t want to show the eulogy to anyone. It was a piece of writing that's intimately theirs, but he felt like the situation was out of control. He slowly opened the novel he kept reading, and between the pages laid the piece of white paper that was folded neatly by Donghyuck himself. He opened it and his heart almost sank down the deepest oceans.

**_It was a blank paper. No ink, no nothing. Just a clean sheet of folded paper._**

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe Donghyuck was an angel, or a hallucination. Or maybe he was the product of Mark’s desire to have someone love him beyond anything.


End file.
